Checkmate
by Colourful-Mess
Summary: Set during the Chess scene in the Philosopher's Stone. Ron's POV as he decides whether to sacrafice himself. Angsty, as he feels inferior to his friends, and shows a hidden dislike for Harry.


I feel sick. I really do. I'm the only person right now that can stop Snape getting hold of the Philosopher's Stone, and stop evil taking over the wizarding world, and all I can think of is how much I don't want to be.

I feel stupid enough, sitting on top of a giant chess horse, yelling orders to blocks of stone. Usually, I take chess so seriously, but, right now, I just feel like an idiot. Harry and Hermione are both standing there, staring at me. They're waiting for me to make my next move.

My eyes dart around the board, looking for moves. There doesn't seem to be any that'll help us at all. I could move a few pawns around, kill a few of the black pawns, but I can't see what help that's going to do any of us. We haven't got much time left. Snape might already have the stone!

Finally, I see a move. I sacrifice one piece and Harry can take their Queen. Checkmate. We win. But I don't want to sacrifice that piece. I don't want to be the piece that gets smashed up with that massive sword in the black Queen's hands.

I can see how it's all going to pan out if I do sacrifice myself, too. Harry and Hermione can go ahead together if they want, but they won't. Hermione will probably go back and get help. She's already been so useful. She was the one that worked out what Snape was after. She was the one that beat the Devil's Snare, too. What did I do? Panicked and almost got myself killed.

And Harry, he'll go on alone and fight Snape and You-Know-Who. Yeah, it's dangerous, but you know what? I think he'll enjoy it. Harry loves the glory of it all. Don't get me wrong, he's my best friend, but sometimes I just hate him.

Harry's just so damn _special_. Youngest seeker in a century, and he's never lost a match. He won us the Quiddich cup, for Merlin's sake! And he's rich. He can buy anything he wants, while I'm stuck with Fred and George's hand-me-downs. And Percy's, and Bill's, and Charlie's. Sometimes even Ginny's. Then there's the whole problem of Harry being everyone's hero, just because of his bloody scar! Yeah, I know, he's the only one to have survived that Avada Kedavra curse thingie, but that was hardly through his own talent, was it? Sometimes, though I always feel really guilty later, I think that Malfoy might have the right ideas about that.

Then there's me. What can I do? All I can do is play chess. I'm nowhere near as smart as Hermione or Percy. I'm actually pretty thick. I'm not really a people person either, not like Fred and George. And, above all, I'm a wimp. A real coward. Bloody hell, I'm even scared of spiders! Harry'll just stroll into real danger without a care in the world. I wish so much that I could be like Harry. Yeah, before he was just famous because of his scar, but what he's doing now – willingly putting himself in real danger – that makes him a real hero.

And the thing that gets me is even if I do let that Queen take me, even if _I_ put myself in real danger, knowing I've got no way out, that I might die, or at least get pretty badly hurt, it sure as hell won't be me that gets all the glory. Oh no. It'll be '_well done Hermione, for being clever and working everything out. Well done for helping your stupid friend who got himself knocked out by a block of stone_'. And, above all, it'll be '_well done Harry. You faced He Who Shall Not Be Named, the most evil wizard in history, a man so evil that people fear to speak his name._' Even if Harry gets himself killed, and I won't be surprised if he does, he'll still get a hundred times more glory than I will.

I'll just be the idiot who managed to get himself knocked out before he even reached any real danger.

But then again, won't I be that anyway? Won't I always be the sidekick of the wonderful hero Harry Potter? For the whole year, haven't I just been the gangly redhead who screws up all his spells? Haven't I just been the Weasley kid who hangs about with the smart girl and the famous Harry Potter? Why is not getting knocked out going to change that?

It's not like I wanted to be the sidekick. In a way, I'm just the same as those potatoes with legs, Crabbe and Goyle. They follow Malfoy about and do his bidding, stuck in his stupid skinny, greasy-haired shadow. And I'm the same.

Then, though I'm not really sure why, the thought of my family shoots into my head. My mum and all her worrying, standing there at the Burrow's door, watching me with that loving look on her face. My dad, with his loud laugh and all his mad ideas. Charlie with his bravery, his thirst for adventure. Bill with his straight-forward loyalty, and Percy with his brains and his annoying arrogance. Fred and George being, well, Fred and George. And Ginny. What are things going to be like for them if You Know Who comes back? What's a world led by You Know Who going to be like for Ginny? And they would all know that I was too blame, being too much of a coward to get myself smashed up a bit.

If I can't be good at anything else, I might as well be good at chess.

"I'm going to have to sacrifice myself," come the words from my lips before I can stop them. They sound even more daunting now that they're out in the open. Hermione lets out a scream.

"No Ron! You can't!"

I sit back on my horse and look at her, trying to look confident, or if I can't muster that, stubborn.

"Look," I say, wishing she was right, wishing there was another way, "Do you want to stop Snape from getting this stone or not?"

Her mouth opens, but she doesn't say anything. I find myself half wishing that she would come up with one of her genius solutions, one that involves me not getting smashed up by that horrible giant sword. But, for once, she says nothing. I'm the chess expert, not her.

I glance at Harry. He looks terrified but determined, the perfect heroic face. I attempt to put a similar one on my own face, but end up just looking terrified.

My voice shaking, no matter how hard I try to steady it, I bark out my final order to the pieces.

"Knight to E4!"

My horse shudders underneath me, and I begin to move. I cling onto its stone mane, though I know that won't help in the least. I reach the black square, and glance at the black Queen. It stands immobile for what seems like hours, staring at me with its stone eyes. Then it pulls its sword from its sheath and turns towards me.

Everything seems to move in slow motion. The huge black sword towers above my head, and I cower behind the horse's stone head. Then the sword comes crashing down on my horse, smashing it to smithereens and sending me tumbling to the ground. A sharp pain shoots through my entire body, finally settling at my head and pulsating there. My body shudders, and suddenly I can't move. Everything around me is uneven and blurred, as if we're underwater. I can feel the rubble from my horse crashing around me, sending a fresh spasm of pain through me every time it hits me.

I hear a girl's scream. It must be Hermione. Then I hear Harry's voice, but I can't hear what he says. He sounds distant, as if he was talking through a thick layer of glass. Then, footsteps passing my head. I try to look at who it is, but everything seems to have gone dark.

Suddenly, through the dark and the blur comes Harry's voice again, clear as day, calling out a single word. For some reason, I'm surprised, as I realise that I've never heard him speak this word before. It should be me saying it, not him. _I_ won the game. But that's not how it works.

_Go on Harry_, I think, _go and be a hero. I'll still beat you at chess._

As I hear him leave the chessboard, and feel Hermione beside me, the single word he spoke echoes through my head like a migraine, as if those words were spoken to me, a reminder that he will always be better than me.

_Checkmate._


End file.
